Page 8 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

“What are we, five? And anyway, even if I did like him, I’m made of metal, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re so much more than that,” Neph tells me. “And I’m not going to let you mess this up.”

“I already did!”

She waves her arms over her head. “Hey, ChorePossum, let’s go!”

“Neph,” I hiss.

She just grins and gives me a wink.

“Still need my help?” He runs a hand through his still-wet hair and then wipes it on his jeans, realizes his jeans are wet, too, and shrugs.

I cringe but say nothing. Maybe he’ll forget I’m the one who got him wet.

“I can’t lift Diva onto the train on my own.” Neph grabs the handle of my cart to wheel me through the airport.

“Let me do that,” Hottie Hotness offers. I try not to look at him so I don’t blow my load yet again.

“Nah, I got it,” Neph tells him. “Save your arms for when we reach the train.”

I’m pissed at her for a split second until the ChorePossum’s hot ass starts to lead the way. Well, all of him leads the way, but his ass is all I can look at.

Don’t steam-jizz him, don’t steam-jizz him, I think.

“So, Diva, I have a question…” He glances over his shoulders at me, and I know exactly what he wants to ask. The same thing everyone asks: How does the espresso machine talk?

“What brings you to Toronto?” he says casually as he looks directly at me.

Most people don’t even bother addressing me, but he’s different, somehow. And he’s talking to me like I’m a person, rather than a freak of nature—or part of the furniture.

When I don’t reply right away, he shoots Neph a questioning glance.

“It’s Diva’s story to tell,” Neph says.

But I don’t want to tell him why we flew here from Moonlit Falls, New York. He already thinks I’m a shitty machine who can’t control her own nozzles. He doesn’t need to know that I’m here because I’m broke.

Money can smooth over most any fuck-ups, but not if you don’t have any. Especially when some bastard stole it all… though he won’t get to keep it for long. I’ll steam up the entire city if I have to, because I plan on getting it all back.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Hunky McHunkster the Third says. Probably the third. Hotness this extreme must run in the family.

I wonder what he looks like naked. If I steam him again, maybe he’ll get so soaked he’ll have to take his clothes off.

I shove that thought away before I squirt on him. Fuck, who would have thought you could still get horny when trapped in an espresso machine? I don’t even have the body parts for it—or a way to take care of myself.

He’s watching me, waiting to see if I’ll answer, but I’ve been silent for way too long.

“It’s no big deal…” I finally say. “We’re in the city because…” Why would anyone travel cross-border with an espresso machine? “We’re interviewing a mug. Yeah, that’s it. I have to meet him and make sure we get along when we’ll be working so closely together.”

Neph’s eyes widen at the lie, but to her credit, she says, “Yeah, he comes very highly recommended.”

She’s a good friend.

“Cool!” Hottie Hottiestien Esquire says as though interviewing a mug is perfectly normal. “I hope the mug is a good fit for your cafe! I didn’t know coffee accessories came in living versions, but it must make for better coffee, handcrafted by an artisan machine—” he winks at me, “and hand-served in a friendly mug.”

I’d cringe if I could. Machine. Accessory. I’m just an object, and not a person, after all.

When I get my family’s money back, I’m going to hire people to carry me around the world to all the best beaches and resorts. When I’m rich and paying them, they won’t ever call me a machine or accessory. Plus, I won’t have to keep inconveniencing Neph and her mates.